


Be on my side, I'll be on yours

by ElenyasBlood



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: (kind of), Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mobster!fic, Crossdressing (mentioned), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Hooker Jared, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, On the Run, Protective Jensen, Scars, Sexual Tension, Twink Jared, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1944780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenyasBlood/pseuds/ElenyasBlood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where not even his life belongs to him, Jared tries everything to stay under the radar. He's obient, quiet and a good little boy, always does what he's asked for. He is a pet, nothing but a toy, and his life would've probably go on like that. Until one fateful night, he gets snatched away by the most impossible man ever—and together they run, either of them chasing a new life as the storm is slowly closing in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be on my side, I'll be on yours

Jensen didn't waste a thought about what was probably gonna happen when he asked the boy with the dimpled cheeks to come with him. He didn't give two shits about the consequences, didn't really think it through to be honest, and now that he parked his car in front of the mansion he felt his stomach drop.

He could protect himself, no doubt about that, but taking care of an immature boy, scared shitless and right now trembling next to him on the passenger's seat, that was a whole other story.

“Go get some clothes,” he rasped anyway and felt his brows furrowing as he tried to form a plan in his head. “Nothing fancy, only the bare necessities. And get the fuck rid of that stupid glitter before you come down again, you look like a whore.”

“Yes,” the boy mumbled, ducking his head at the harsh words, and with a tentative smile on his lips he slipped out of the car and into the giant mansion of his owners.

Jensen allowed himself a deep-drawn sigh as soon as he was alone and was about to feel pity for the stupid, innocent little kid, when he reminded himself that there was no need for formalities. Confronting the boy with the hard reality was probably for the best, no time to sugar-coat the whole situation they were currently stuck in—as fucked up as it was. From now on they were on the run, hiding from what was one of the biggest and most influencing mafia syndicates in all of the fifty States and there was no place they could go, no isle they could fly to and no hole they could dig themselves into that would save them from the wrath of the clan.

The kid _—Jared_ —returned after a surprisingly short time—not so surprising when one thought about the fact that the stupid child probably wasn't allowed many belongings—and Jensen couldn't help but ask.

“Pack anything else besides that?” he barked and gestured towards the boy's outfit for the night: a silken bra studded with blunt, iron rivets, a pair of the most skimpy panties Jensen had ever seen in his entire life, and smooth stockings, clinging to his long legs and covering the nasty bruises Jensen knew were blooming under the expensive fabric. Black leather boots completed the outfit.

“I do,” Jared replied dutifully and pointed towards the small backpack he was clutching to his chest. “I thought it might be better if... if I change in the car? I-I'm sorry, I'm stupid, I-”

“You're right,” Jensen cut in as he kicked the Jeep's engine to life. “Do it now, we've no time to waste.”

Jared nodded, the look on his face still stern though his limbs kept betraying his courage, his body quivering like a leaf in the breeze and his smooth skin pale and covered in cool sweat. “Where are we heading?”

There was a beat of silence and Jensen bit his tongue while flooring the gas, eyes fixed on the dark road. What was he supposed to say? ' _None of your business_ '? ' _It was just a joke, I'm gonna bring you back to the club_ '? ' _I don't know and it doesn't matter anyway_ '? Because that would be the blatant truth if he was honest with himself. He had stolen one of the DeWitt's precious gems and they'd never rest until they' found Jensen and his charge, probably cutting their throats open the minute they got their hands on them. He really hadn't thought this whole thing through when he asked Jared to come with him, to leave everything behind and escape from his fate—but the moment he'd seen the filthy guest's hands slap Jared's face, bruising his cheek and drawing a painful whimper out of the boy's throat, his instinct had kicked in.

It wasn't like it was the first time he'd seen someone lay his hands on Jared, the kid being in the hands of the DeWitts and working as a _toy_ for about three years now, but tonight Jensen's patience had been worn thin and his feelings were raw in his chest. He hadn't meant to cross the club with a few long strides before gripping the bloke's hair and breaking his neck with a quick, smooth motion—but after the damage was done there was nothing to lose anyway so he'd snatched Jared away.

“Come with me,” he'd breathed into the kid's face, his eyes registering every bruise. “I'll take you away from here. You can have a new life. I'm gonna take care of you.”

And the kid had nodded, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, cheek swollen and body quivering next to Jensen's. And here they were now, speeding down a road to nowhere and listening to nothing but the silence weighing their shoulders down.

There was no satisfying answer he could give the kid, so he went for “Stop asking stupid questions and hurry with your clothes instead,” in the end. And Jared did as he was told—the obedient little _toy_ he was—and quietly unhooked the studded bra. He was quick with it, like a pretty little doll trained to squirm out of the delicate fabric, and Jensen felt a wave of arousal sweeping through his body. He was rock-hard in his jeans, had been since the moment he'd snapped that scumbag's neck, and now his cock pressed against the zipper, sharp metal teeth biting into his hot flesh.

“C'mon hurry, we're almost there,” he commanded, voice rough, and pulled into a side road as he tried to keep his eyes on the street instead of ogling the still trembling boy in his passenger seat.

“Sorry,” Jared mumbled and ducked his head again as he shimmied out of the panties before he pulled down the stockings in one go, revealing a bunch of nasty bruises down his thighs. Wrapped up in his own thoughts and brain still in _toy-mode_ , Jared didn't really seem to mind his own nakedness as he bent down to fish some more discreet clothes out of his backpack: a smooth black shirt and gray skinny jeans. No underwear.

“We're gonna change cars in a few minutes. Get ready,” Jensen announced, the raging hard-on in his pants pumping and straining against its reigns. Jensen was a cleaner, a killer and a fucking professional—but right now he felt like he was about to lose his infamous patience at any second.

Jared nodded, now fully clothed and clutching his backpack again, and he tried a small smile. “Thank you,” he breathed into the silence and Jensen kicked the brakes.

They stopped in front of Jensen's meager apartment and after he'd grabbed some clothes, money and his car keys they loaded into his giant SUV. The car was just like Jensen: fast, silent and an absolute beast. Jensen man felt a familiar rush of adrenaline as he slipped behind the steering wheel.

“Buckle your seat belt and try to sleep for a while, it's gonna be a long night,” he rasped as soon as they were pulling out of the driveway and Jared, again, nodded. He looked small and miserable in the big seat, goosebumps rising where the cold touch of the night had kissed his bare skin and his lower lip quivering in distress.

“Aren't you gonna fall asleep? You worked all day,” he piped up after a beat of silence. His voice sounded small and timid. Fucking reminder of how young he was.

Jensen shrugged. “Nah, I'm good. And if we die tonight wrapped around a tree it's probably for the better. Gonna happen sooner or later anyway.” He didn't mean to blurt his frustration out, but Jared made it so damn easy for him to forget himself, something that hadn't happened to Jensen for years. Decades, even.

“Probably,” the kid mused and slumped back into the seat as he pulled his knees to his chest, hugging the bony limbs.

“You cold?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don't you put on a sweater then?”

Jared blushed furiously and even his floppy bangs couldn't hide the embarrassment that crept over his face. “I... I don't have one. I'm uh... I wasn't allowed to wear... pullovers around the Masters.”

A strangled growl escaped Jensen and with his jaw clenched he grabbed his hoodie from the backseat to throw it into the boy's face ungraciously.

“Don't lose it,” he grunted as he watched Jared slip into the warm cloth, the threatbare fabric hanging loosely around the boy's lithe form. It didn't fit, made the kid look even more pathetic if anything, but something about seeing Jared wearing his clothes made Jensen moan quietly and he had to palm himself through his jeans. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. _Shit._

 ♦ 

Jensen drove the whole night and the following day, only stopping for them to take a piss or fill the hungry tank with gas. He purchased a few candy bars and energy drinks as well as hot, strong coffee from one of the many gas stations and paid cash only. _Don't let them track you down so easily._

The DeWitts surely must have discovered their escape by now and were probably on their way to take back what was stolen from them. Like a beehive they'd swarm out all over the country, looking to find any traces of their precious gem and its pervert abductor—and one day or another they'd be successful in their search and reclaim what was rightfully theirs. Or so they thought.

“Can we please turn in for the night?” Jared peeped from where he sat next to Jensen, hair greasy and nose scrunched up in discomfort. He was still wearing Jensen's hoodie and looked like a kid who had been robbed of his favorite toy.

“You wanna get caught?” Jensen snarled in return and took a long sip from the cold, stale coffee. He felt completely and utterly exhausted, his eyes burning and his back pinching so hard it made him groan uneasily—but he couldn't let go just yet. _'Just another one or two hundred miles'_ he thought to himself and floored the gas again.

Jared sighed. “No, I d-don't, course not. But I... I miss sleeping in a bed.”

“If you don't wanna get used to sleep in a fucking coffin you better think twice before saying such foolish things, kid.” Jensen barked out, more aggressively than strictly necessary and Jared winced under the harsh words.

“Sorry,” he whispered, ducking his head again and hiding his beautiful face from Jensen.

Jensen hated it. “Just a few more hours,” he grumbled and tried to make it sound like a promise. His handswere clutching the steering wheel in determination as he tried to focus on the road and what lay ahead of them instead of the soft little whimpers that fell from Jared's lips as he quietly cried into the sleeves of Jensen's sweater.

 ♦ 

It was two hours after midnight when they finally stopped for the night. Jensen had spied a shabby Motel off the side of the road and with his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror he pulled into the abandoned parking lot. He hadn't stopped checking for possible persecutors during their entire ride.

“Wake up, kid,” he grunted and tried not to dwell on the piercing headache that rattled inside his skull, blurring his vision and scattering his thoughts every time he tried to pull them together.

Jared stretched and yawned in his seat. “Where are we?” he asked and his voice was heavy with slumber, hazel eyes sleep-crusted.

“Nebraska,” Jensen huffed out, unbuckling his seat belt, and after another thorough check of their surroundings he killed the engine and turned the crude headlights off, allowing the meager landscape to hide its ugly face in darkness again.

Jared gasped. “Nebraska? But what are we—”

“Can you please for once shut your mouth and stop asking stupid questions? At least until I've checked us in?” Jensen cut in and kicked the front door open. “And speaking of keeping your mouth shut: I don't want you to say a word to anyone here, we clear on that? Not the receptionist, not the maid, not the fucking neighbor's dog, you hear me?”

There was a beat of silence and Jensen thought Jared might protest. The look of defiance on his face was almost tangible, his lips pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowed in the pale light of the moon. A grim sight. And it was beautiful and wild and made Jensen groan quietly. But then Jared nodded defeatedly and quietly slipped out of the car.

They checked in without encountering any obstacles. The clerk behind the reception was all but bored and handed them their keys with that kind of disinterest that sent Jensen's blood boiling. It made him want to gut the fucking idiot with a box cutter. Instead he ground his teeth and stirred Jared into the direction of their abode.

The first thing Jensen noticed inside the small room were two beds. _Two beds_. Good. Fucking amazing. 'Cause there was no fucking way he'd sleep next to Jared. Not in a million years. Jensen wasn't a good man, he'd not even once tried to tell himself that. He was a cold-blooded killer, a fucking cleaner and god knew he'd peeled many a men's flesh from their bones. He was stained with blood and violence followed him wherever he walked. There was not a single thing he hadn't done, not a single weapon he hadn't wielded and every scar littering his skin told his story of debauchery and ruin. And right now he was on the edge. His body was prickling with the urge to release the pent up tension and he didn't trust himself. Never had. Jared's beautiful, innocent body made it hard to remind himself that he was no stupid teenager with no control over his hormones and no fucking pervert. No, _fuck no_. That was a line he'd never crossed before and he didn't intend on changing in that matter. _No._ Fucking thank you.

“C-Can I... take a shower?” Jared asked into the silence and scrunched his nose as he inhaled the stale scent of damp sheets and cheap plastic furniture.

Snapping out of his musings, Jensen pushed past the boy. “Let me check first,” he drawled and with his fingers closed around the cold steel of his Colt 1911 he stepped into the enclosed bathroom. No window, dirty tiles, a splintered mirror on the wall and the nauseating smell of cheap air freshener and piss lingering in the air greeted Jensen. He shot the kid a small nod as he exited the room again.

“All clear,” he grunted, exhaling harshly, and started securing their refuge for the night as soon as Jared had quietly closed the bathroom door behind his back.

The kid took his time and left Jensen to his own devices, which he all but embraced. He'd spent the last fifteen minutes double-checking every corner of the meager motel room for possible security cameras, barricading the windows with what was left of the cheap furniture and placing weapons on strategic advantageous places—not that they’d stand a chance in an assault. But Jensen liked to be prepared and if shit was about to go down tonight, he wanted to do a proper job.

He was about to finish counting the money he'd hastily stuffed into the inside of his jacket earlier as the bathroom door opened again and Jared stepped into the main room, his slender silhouette bathed in the fuzzy, orange light of the bathroom lamp. His hair was wet and his skin scrubbed pink and Jensen found himself mesmerized by the beads of water that still clung to the boy's gently curved lashes. _Fucking hell._

“You finally done?” he rasped and felt his cock twitch inside his jeans.

“Yeah, sorry it took me so long. I just missed this so much... ya know, being clean and all.” Jared replied. His voice sounded tight and he had wrapped himself in Jensen's sweater again, his long legs bare and exposed to Jensen's hungry gaze.

“Whatever,” Jensen mumbled and got up from where he was seated on the bed's edge. “Gonna take a shower, too. Don't flip on the lights, don't plug in the TV, don't open the windows.”

Jared nodded quietly and stepped out of the way to make room for Jensen as he pushed past him. “And don't fucking touch my stuff, you hear me? If you do, I'll cut your fingers off.”

“Got it,” Jared peeped and the last thing Jensen saw was the kid's sad smile as he dropped himself cross-legged on the empty bed, eyes streaked with moisture and hands curled into the way too long sleeves.

 ♦ 

Jensen fucked his fist in the shower and he didn't feel bad about it. Like hell he did. He had been hard for the longest time, his blood thick with adrenaline and his body taut as a fucking bowstring. He was almost painfully aware of the boy next door and okay, it left a little bit of a bad aftertaste that he was thinking about Jared the whole time he drove his rock-hard cock into the slick heat of his palm. But goddamn that kid was hot, all sun-kissed skin and gangly limbs. His waist was slim and his ass perky, round, perfect. And his face. _Fucking hell_. Jensen'd be damned if that boy wasn't sporting one of prettiest faces in all of the United States with those hazel eyes and the pointy nose and a pair of soft, plush lips. And his dimples of course, those cute little grooves that popped up whenever Jared cracked a smile—not that such thing happened too often.

Jensen came hard and with a full-body shiver as his orgasm tore through him. He hadn't lasted long, only a few erratic thrusts before he painted the tiles with hot ropes of creamy white come. He was about to regain his composure when he heard a tentative knock on the bathroom door.

“What?” he groaned, startled, and even had the decency to blush like a schoolboy being caught masturbating for the first time by his mom.

“I'm sorry to bother you, b-but I think there's someone outside,” Jared's voice floated through the steam-filled air and Jensen felt his stomach dropping. _Already?_ Damn, DeWitt really must have wanted his _toy_ back!

Jensen was already out of the shower and inside his pants when he hissed “Don't fucking move, Jay,” and there was a gun in his hand and his body hummed with anticipation and the adrenaline of the afterglow. Good. _Very_ good. He was in the best shape of his life; he wouldn't go down without a struggle and with a grim expression he stepped into the main room.

“What did you hear?” he whispered and suddenly Jared was really close, crowding into Jensen's space and clutching his slick muscles. With shaking fingers the boy scrambled for something to hold on to and with a quiet, wrecked sob he dug blunt nails into Jensen's biceps.

“I dunno,” he breathed, eyes wide with panic and lower lip trembling again. The tear tracks on his cheeks glistened in the moonlight and Jensen couldn't keep himself from pressing back against the quivering teenager, grounding him with the heat his body was emanating.

“C'mon, focus,” Jensen demanded and let Jared lean into the touch for another two or three seconds before he slowly stepped away, Colt pointed towards the door and eyes squinted. “Was it voices? Footsteps? A car?”

Jared shook his head and it seemed like he wasn't aware of his motions when he chased Jensen's touch, clumsily following on his heels as they skulked towards the door. “I dunno, it was voices and a... a moan. It sounded... sounded so close, Jensen. Too close.”

Jensen only subliminal registered the hitch in the kid's voice when he said his name for the first time before he turned to face the shaking teenager.

“Go over there, hide behind the bed and don't fucking move,” he ordered and was more than mildly surprised when Jared shook his head.

“No,” the boy said firmly and pushed closer into Jensen's personal space, hooking a set of shaking fingers into the belt loops of Jensen's damp jeans.

Jensen growled. “This isn't a game. Get off me. _Now,_ ” he warned and checked the porch with a quick, expert look out of the barricaded window.

He half expected Jared to burst out in tears—from what Jensen could tell the stupid kid was fucking close to lose his shit for good any time now—but instead he felt another hand clawing at the denim of his pants. “I'm n-not... not gonna die alone,” Jared whispered and the look on his face was determined though his voice wavered. “Not gonna leave you, Jensen.”

“Fucking hell,” Jensen groaned and loosened the hunting knife from his belt. There was no time for fucking discussions and with every passing second their enemies could draw a closer line around their refuge. Cursing quietly under his breath, he offered the boy the blade's handle. “Take that. It's not gonna be of much help but at least you'll have something other than me to cling to.”

The sound Jared had heard turned out to be the neighbor fucking a whore into the mattress. After eliminating every other option and after half an hour of checking the surroundings thoroughly, Jensen heard the noise, too, and almost laughed at how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“Get the fuck inside again,” he all but hissed instead and pushed the boy towards the motel room before he secured his gun and slipped it inside the waistband of his jeans. “We should get some sleep.”

 ♦ 

Despite being awake for more than thirty hours by the time he slipped under the covers, Jensen couldn't sleep. With adrenaline still pumping through his veins and caffeine thrumming beneath his skin he could hear his brain rattle inside his skull, thoughts stumbling over one another, coming to life as bright as a bonfire just to die down in the numbness of his mind again. There was no plan, never had been one. And there was no escape. It was strange but Jensen felt almost at peace as he got comfortable with the thought of dying so very soon. It was about time, anyway. Someone like him shouldn't be allowed to walk the earth that long—it's bad karma or something. He had slain enough people to deserve the most excruciating death one could think of, but dying for something _—someone_ —who was actually worth it was... kind of nice. Really. It wasn't like he wanted to save his soul with snatching Jared outta that hell, he would be fucking stupid to think it'd be enough anyway. But for once his skills would be needed to keep someone alive instead of snapping bone and crushing skulls.

A small voice startled Jensen.

“I didn't want to,” Jared whispered into the silence of the dark motel room.

“What?” Jensen rasped and tried to sound uninterested. Could this kid never shut up? At least he had stopped crying for onc—Jensen fucking hated it when he cried. It made him feel weak.

“I didn't want to... you know, cling to something else. Didn't want to.”

Jensen's reply was a noncommittal grunt and a few minutes of silence stretched between them before Jared bothered to explain his quizzical statement. “I didn't want to be alone... because I can't fight. And I can't take care of myself, never could. 'S what brought me into this mess in the first place.” He made a brief pause in which he sucked in a deep breath as if to suppress the urge to cry and Jensen wanted to run away. Or blow his brains out with a bullet. Or strangle Jared—anything to make him shut up.

“I can't fight, can't k-kill. 'M not like you, Jensen. I-I don't... I'd die a coward and a virgin and nothing else, blade in my fingers or not.”

Jensen felt like he might be sick and with a strangled growl escaping his throat he tried to fight down the interest that bloomed inside his chest as he listened to Jared's voice. And the arousal, his cock a fucking treacherous thing that dared to harden again beneath the soft cotton of Jensen's boxer briefs. He didn't want to know about Jared, didn't want to care about him so much. It was dangerous, and fucking stupid on top of that. Jensen didn't fall for people anymore; he'd learned his lesson years ago.

“Can't imagine you a virgin.” he sneered anyway and almost bit his tongue in the process. “Saw you dance.”

Jared snorted in return. “I was just a treat to warm themup. They pay more like that. I wasn't to be touched until next month,” he explained and there it was again, the slight hitch in his voice as he tried to swallow his tears.

Jensen snarled. “They were about to sell your virgin-ass to the highest bidder?”

“Yeah.”

That explained a lot. In fact, it explained everything: why Jensen'd never seen Jared in the whorehouse but only in the club and why they kept him so close to the big boss, him sleeping in the mansion and all. And why the other _toys_ were so brutal with him, shoving him and pulling his hair until blood ran down his face, no sign of solidarity to be seen in all those years. And also why Jared was alone for the most part—well besides from the nights where he had to dance for those filthy, spit-licking fucktards.

Jensen only managed to grind out a “Sucks to be you,” before he buried his face in the pillow. Heat surged through him and swept away all common sense, leaving behind only blinding white wrath and the urge to kill them all. All those fucking dirty goat-fuckers. He wanted to claw them apart, piece by piece and he wanted Jared to watch. He wanted the boy to see what Jensen could do for him, what he was ready to do to free him—and he wanted to take those memories from Jared. _Yes, sweep it all away, drown him in kisses and make him forget. Make him moan your name, claim him and show him what it means to be mounted and owned. Burn away the memories of pain and sorrow and make those stupid tears vanish forever from his face._

 ♦ 

They left the motel behind at noon, its plain shapes blurring into the horizon as Jensen sped down the road.

“You hungry?” he asked after a few minutes of silence, and not only because Jared's lithe form was swallowed by Jensen's hoodie like he hadn't had a proper meal in years, but also because the kid hadn't spoken to him since last night.

Jared shook his head.

“We need to stop for some gas soon, want me to bring you something?”

Jared repeated the motion. He kept his eyes on the road, and the shadows under his eyes told Jensen that he couldn't possibly have gotten more sleep last night than Jensen—which was very close to none at all.

When they stopped for gas it had started to rain.

“Stay in the car,” Jensen mumbled into the heavy silence and slammed his door pointedly shut before Jared could even begin to reply. Cool droplets immediately soaked into Jensen's flannel as he busied himself with the gas pump and it felt like for the first time since he'd slipped into the car that he could breathe freely again.

He paid cash again, obviously, and let his gaze roam across the heavily stuffed storage racks inside the gas station while the world's slowest cashier counted his change. “I'll take one of these, too,” Jensen blurted out suddenly and without even realizing his mouth was moving. He pointed at a package of double-chocolate cookies. He hadn't had cookies in forever, didn't even like them—but something told him his passenger would.

“And a bottle of chocolate milk. That's it.”

“Aren't we a sweet-tooth?” the cashier chirped and again started to fumble with the money in her cash register.

“No, _we_ are not,” Jensen snarled and grabbed his stuff with a scowl. After another three or four minutes of waiting Jensen told the cashier to keep the fucking change and strutted out of the gas station.

The first thing he noticed when he busted through the door was the black Camaro next to his SUV. It was a pretty girl, all polished up and smooth and so was the man in his expensive looking suit who leaned against Jensen's car. He made big, agitated gestures and the look on his face was determined. His thin lips were curled into an oily smile and _—fucking hell_ —his fingers were curled aroundJared's biceps, ready to drag the boy over to the Camaro.

Jensen didn't think twice as he dropped the meager supplies onto the wet concrete and pulled his Colt out of the holster beneath the flannel, teeth bared and eyes focused on the suit-guy.

“C'mon, you can trust me. You've seen the badge,” Jensen heard the guy say as soon as he was close enough and thank fuck, that stupid amateur was too busy trying to convince Jared to come with him to take notice of Jensen until he pressed the Colt's barrel against suit-guy's pulse point.

“Nice try, Freeman,” Jensen drawled by way of greeting and flashed the not-so-strange man a wolfish grin. “Thought you were gonna snatch my charge away while I was paying for my gas, huh? Tsk, rude.”

The man in the suit froze and his eyes went wide the moment Jensen's words sunk in. “Ackles, you stupid fuck,” he spat, his fingers still buried in Jared's biceps. “Give him to me and I promise to return him to the DeWitts in one piece.”

Jensen scoffed. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it. Are you gonna let him suffocate in your trunk like you did with that poor girl last week? Or are you gonna rape him first before breaking every bone in his body, huh?”

“Don't act like you're a saint, Ackles. Everyone knows you're their bloodhound. You've done things worse than that.”

Jensen shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. We'll never know.” And with a small smile he pushed the Colt deeper into the soft hollow of Freeman's throat. “Now let go of him and step back, you hear me?”

Suit-guy snorted. “You're not gonna get away with this, Ackles. Never. They're gonna hunt you down, make you bleed. You're on their list now.”

“Ooh, I'm shivering with fear,” Jensen replied in a seemingly bored fashion. “And now do what I say or I'm gonna pull the fucking trigger and ruin your pretty suit.”

Freeman didn't so much let go of Jared as give him a hard shove. It sent the kid reeling and with panic written all over his face Jared crashed against the car, limbs flailing wide and a string of crimson blood immediately splashing onto the concrete floor. The boy's head banged into the cold metal of the SUV with a loud thud and though pain flickered across his face Jared didn't say a word. He didn't scream, didn't cry. Only curled into himself, arms wrapped around his head for protection. _Good boy._

Jensen—momentarily distracted by Jared's blood on the floor—didn't see the fist coming and gasped as it smashed against his jaw, knuckles cracking and skin lacerating. With a curse he lost hold of his Colt and before he could fumble for his Smith&Wesson he was shoved forward and against the car. The silver blade of a short knife flashed somewhere in the corner of Jensen's eyes and the next thing he felt was a sharp pain exploding in his left shoulder. The cut wasn't deep, no more than a scratch, but it hurt like a bitch and Jensen could feel his guts twist in hot fury.

“You fucking asshole,” he howled as soon as he had regained his composure and the next swing he knew it was coming from a mile away. With an almost prancing motion Jensen side-stepped and let Freeman fall into his own blow, using this amateur's gushing energy to crush a fist against his skull. Freeman screamed, but Jensen was right there, clamping his hand around the man's mouth while the other twisted his arm behind his back until the sinews snapped. The knife clattered against the concrete floor.

“You listen to me, you filthy little maggot,” Jensen hissed and trapped the helplessly whimpering man between the Camaro and the bulk of his body. “I've got a message for your _Masters_ and you're gonna deliver it, got it?”

Freeman nodded.

“Good. Good boy, trained like a little bitch,” Jensen snarled and patted the man's bruised and sprained wrist before he inched the twisted arm a little higher, drawing another pained whimper out of Freeman's mouth. “Tell them I'm waiting for them. Tell them I'm ready for them to come for me. I'm not gonna hide.” He punctuated every word with another inch, putting even more pressure on the taut muscles and already cracking bones in Freeman's arm. “You gonna do that for me?”

The trapped man nodded again, eyes blood-shot and wide in panic. The pain must have been almost unbearable for such a loser like Freeman, but Jensen wasn't quite done yet. “As for Jared,” he pointed his chin towards the kid still coiled into a tiny ball on the cold, cold concrete. “You're gonna apologize to him. Say you're sorry for trying to fool him and lying to him. Say you're sorry for shoving him and that you wanted to split his little ass open with your filthy cock. Say it.”

“Fuck you, Ackles,” the man in the rumpled suit drawled and spat right into Jensen's face.

“Shhh, that's not what I wanted to hear, darling,” Jensen mumbled and with a vicious smile on his lips he gave Freeman's twisted arm the last shove that made his muscles lacerate from their base and dislcated his shoulder. The man's scream was beyond human and his face twisted in pain, his skin going from flushed to pale to almost green.

“Say it,” Jensen roared and still didn't let go, pressing further instead and another sickening crack marked the disruption of Freeman's ulna from its position next to the radius. “Say you're sorry you disgusting fuck, say it. Say it!”

And finally Freeman's resistance broke and he whimpered “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” until his throat was sore and tears streamed down his face. All the blood had left his face and only Jensen's body pressed into his seemed to hold him upright.

“That's it. Good boy.” Jensen patted his cheek and now that he had what he wanted he quickly lost interest in the pathetically whining man. With an almost serene look on his face he stripped Freeman of all his weapons before he was giving him a last, disgusted glance. “Now go and tell your _Masters_. Tell 'em everything I want them to know, will ya? Go. Quick. Before I change my mind and gut you right here in the parking lot.”

And with that Jensen let go of Freeman, didn't even so much as blink as the man collapsed onto the floor. Instead Jensen picked up his Colt and the half-forgotten supplies and strutted towards Jared.

“Get up, kid. It's over,” he growled and watched the boy unfold himself hesitantly, sitting up and rubbing his forehead where it had crashed into the car. The skin had already turned purple and it made Jensen want to return and cut Freeman's dick off.

“Is he dead? Did you kill him?” Jared asked breathlessly as for some reason he awkwardly tried not to stain Jensen's hoodie with his blood.

“No, I didn't. He has to carry a message to them. Let's get the hell out of here before the cashier calls the cops.”

Jared nodded and managed to scramble to his feet before a sharp cry left his mouth. “Shit, you're hurt.” He pointed towards Jensen's shoulder, suddenly seemingly more terrified than he'd been during the assault. His eyes went wide. “I'm so sor-”

“Shut the fuck up and get into the fucking car, you stupid child,” Jensen all but barked into the boy's face and registered with a painful pang in his chest that Jared actually winced under the loud, harsh words. “And stop screaming like that; you're not a fucking baby.”

Jared bit his lip in defiance but quietly did as he was told, and the pain stirred by Jensen's injured shoulder was nothing compared to the thrilling ache sparked by the look the boy shot him before they slipped into the SUV.

 ♦ 

Jensen drove until he felt like he might fall asleep with eyes open and then some. At some point they'd switched cars again, leaving the SUV at an abandoned parking lot. Their new vehicle wasn't as quite as comfortable as the SUV had been with its soft seats and wide foot-spaces, but after what had happened at the gas station it had been to risky to keep the big, broad car.

Now it was dark outside again, the world a black mass, and Jared curled into himself against the door. He hadn't talked since the encounter with Jensen's former colleague and Jensen was grateful for it. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he didn't want to deal with the kid and his stupid demeanor. Jensen had decided to change their route through the states and currently they were heading north on a bumpy side-road.

The sun was dawning in the East when Jared finally broke his silence. “Where are we going?”

“North,” Jensen sighed and checked his crumpled road map again for the right direction.

“Yeah... no... I mean where are _going_?” Jared insisted and he sounded so weary, his voice so raw it made Jensen shiver.

He clutched the steering wheel harder. “Almost there. Let's talk later. Eat something.” Was his answer and with another sigh he threw a bunch of granola bars into Jared's face.

The sun had already climbed above the mountains when Jensen finally found what he was looking for: a seemingly abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere. It was surrounded by nothing but trees and dead wood and thoroughly hidden from the world. Jensen parked the car behind an old shed and immediately slipped out and into the morning sun. “You stay here, I'm gonna check if we're okay,” he mouthed through the window and was pleased with the boy's obedient reaction.

It didn't take him long to clear the area—good thing he'd spent his entire childhood in the dull green of those forests—and after a thorough inspection of the lock he broke the front door down without much effort. With Jared close by he stepped inside and was immediately swallowed by the fuzzy half-light and the cool, stale air of the cabin. Memories sparked inside his head.

“Been here before?” Jared asked breathlessly and kept close to Jensen, his body smooth and warm at Jensen's back.

A nod was Jensen only confirmation before he slammed the door shut and flicked one of the small table lamps on. It was still all the same: the smell, the light, the furniture, even the hideous pictures on the wall. It was like he was thrown into a time-warp and his exhausted brain was about to shut down at any second.

“Wanna shower first?” Jared asked and again his eyes flickered towards the blood-stained fabric on Jensen's shoulder.

“No, you go,” Jensen slurred and dropped his bag on the small sofa. “I'm gonna go and find us something to eat.”

 Jared vanished into the small bathroom and as soon as the water started to gush out of the faucet, Jensen started plowing through the cupboards of the kitchen to hopefully find something edible, preferably with lots of sugar and caffeine. It reminded him of the cookies and chocolate milk in the car and since he needed to check the oil anyway he left the cabin to do just that and grab their supplies.

Jared was done showering when Jensen returned and sat cross-legged on the sofa, sweatpants riding low on his hips and a smooth shirt hugging his lithe fame. His nose was swollen, as was his forehead, and an ugly bruise marred his otherwise immaculate skin. Jensen almost lost his shit again at the sight.

“How are you doing?” he asked between gritted teeth as he piled cookies, chocolate milk and a huge stack of ammo on the small wooden table in front of the couch.

“Been better.”

Jensen nodded, unsure what to say, not even knowing why he'd bothered to ask in the first place. “I'm gonna go and take a shower, knock if... you know.” He was about to bustle into the bathroom when he turned to face the boy again. “Try to eat something, will ya? You look awfully skinny.”

This time Jensen didn't fuck his fist though he was painfully hard as soon he stripped himself out of his blood- and dirt-stained clothing. But today he actually _did_ feel guilty. Guilty and exhausted and there was a desperation nagging inside his skull that made him feel weak. And he hated being weak. It was something he'd gotten rid of long ago. Being forced into a defensive position was living hell, even worse when he had something so precious to take care of. Something he didn't dare to lose.

 ♦ 

“You didn't eat,” Jensen remarked flatly as he stepped into the small living room again, finding Jared exactly like he'd left him a few minutes ago. The boy shrugged.

“Not hungry,” he mumbled and his eyes darted to Jensen's shoulder where a patch of watery blood was soaking through the fabric of his clean shirt. With the crusted and clumped blood washed away the wound had started to leak again and Jensen was too careless to patch it up. That wound? It didn't matter. It was but one in a sea of cuts and bruises and gashes and it would fade into a scar soon enough, like all those others before. Jensen was littered with them, his skin marred everywhere: his face, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his limbs. And that’s not even counting his back.

But for some reason Jared seemed to care and it made Jensen want to crawl out of his skin.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” Jensen asked after a few heartbeats of heavy silence and dropped his body in the lonely armchair, reaching for his gun to check barrel and ammo.

Jared's eyes went wide. “Why did I... What the fuck are you talking about?” he ground out.

“I'm talking about you casually chatting with one of DeWitt's number one cleaners while I pay my bills, you stupid child,” Jensen replied, voice calm and razor-sharp.

“I'm not a... you don't know, he had a fucking badge okay. It was a fucking FBI badge and he showed it to me and told me that he was there to _help_. You hear me, Mr. One-Man-Army? H.E.L.P.”

One of Jensen's brows raised and he felt himself losing his infamous patience, his arms coming to cross in front of his chest. “I can hear you, loud and clear. There's no reason to yell.”

“There is a fucking reason to fucking yell,” Jared roared and surged to his feet, hands suddenly balled into hard little fists. “You wanna know why I didn’t listen to you, Jensen? Because I don’t wanna fucking change one prison for another. You asked me to come with you and I did and now we're stuck here and—” he cut himself off to take a deep breath before he pointedly went on—“that fucking guy had. a. _badge_.”

“And how would _you_ know what a FBI badge looks like, huh? You've spent most of your life as DeWitt's pet and as far as I know they're not really in touch with the FBI.” Jensen replied calmly, though his heart was about to burst through his ribcage at any second now.

Jared gasped. “Because... because... because my dad was an FBI agent okay, you stupid fucking cock.” And then there were tears again, hot and salty, and they ran down Jared's cheeks and Jensen thought about how long it must have been since he'd seen Jared's dimples.

“I didn't want that to happen okay, he... h-he had a fucking badge and I thought maybe, just maybe he could... help. And now you're hurt and I can't fucking do anything about it,” Jared continued and buried his fingers in his shaggy brown hair, pulling the strands hard enough to make his scalp ache. “I-I didn't want that to happen okay, I just wanted to help. I didn't... didn't want you to get hurt and you're bleeding, god Jensen, you're still bleeding. Please let me take a look at it, I didn't want that to happen. I swear.”

Jared's voice had faltered during his speech. The words dwindling away in his throat until there was nothing left but wet sobs, eating away at his tongue, and he had sunk back into the sofa. Like a child, he slumped into himself and the look on his face was pleading, cheeks wet with tears and the bridge of his nose swollen and purple.

“Just don't make a fuss about it,” Jensen said after a few seconds of dead silence and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his scar-marred chest to the boy. Fucking first time in a few years for someone else than himself to see this trainwreck of a body.

And Jared only nodded and got up on shaky legs, the look of pure disbelief on his face and _yeah, right?_ Jensen didn't even know himself why he'd listened to Jared's pleas. But something about the way Jared talked to him made him wanna strip himself bare in front of the kid and confess every dirty sin he'd ever committed.

“'S not deep,” the boy said, confirming Jensen's assumptions after a good minute of silent staring.

“Told you it's no big deal.”

Jared huffed out sigh. “But it could have been,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting over Jensen's exposed shoulder and Jensen was painfully aware of the soothing heat next to him on the armrest, Jared's body pressed flush against his side and his fingers tentatively brushing along the cracks of the clean cut. “Does it hurt like... a lot?”

Jensen dared to bark out a short, rasped laugh. “Believe me, Jay, I've had worse.”

“Mnnnhh,” Jared hummed and continued to trail his fingertips over Jensen's warm skin. “I can see that.” And he started chasing the scars and freckles dusted on Jensen's shoulders. His fingers zigzagged between golden dots and pearly white streaks with such tenderness it made both their hearts ache.

“Don't do that,” Jensen growled breathily after a few seconds of silent treatment and the sharpness in his voice froze Jared to the spot, his hand hovering feather-light over the crook of Jensen's neck.

“Why?” he whispered and again a cloud of hot breath caressed Jensen's skin, sending his blood boiling and shivers coiling down his spine.

“Because you're too young to know what you're doing, Jared.”

“You said it yourself: I've spent most of my life as DeWitt's pet—do you think there's anything I haven't seen by now?”

A flash of hot, white anger coursed through Jensen and abruptly he got to his feet, grabbing his shirt in the process and slipping in. “Believe me kiddo, there are _shitloads_ of things you haven't seen and... what makes you think I'm interested in fucking a virgin anyway, huh?”

Jared looked like someone had hit him square in the face, but his energy was worn out and his anger gone and so he only shrugged. “Are you gonna tell me where we're going now?” he asked with a small voice.

Jensen's temper cooled as quickly as it had boiled up and yeah, maybe now he _did_ feel something like pity for the boy in front of him, playing with the hem of Jensen's too big sweater _—and why was he still wearing that stupid thing anyway?_

“Only if you're going to eat at least some of the stuff I wouldn't touch with a six foot pole,” he replied and gestured towards the cookies and a bag of potato chips he'd found in the kitchen earlier.

Jared cracked a small smile and Jensen thought he'd go insane with the blinding beauty of it, all dimples and pink lips. “Deal,” the boy nodded and grabbed the package of cookies first.

“It's a friend of mine,” Jensen explained after a few minutes of Jared's silent munching. “He's... kind of a dealer—”

“Oh god, no drugs please—”

“Would you shut up and listen? He doesn't deal drugs—or at least not primarily as far as I'm informed. He deals with identities and with the right amount of money in your back pocket he'll give you a new one.”

Jared's mouth fell open. “A new identity? Like... a new name and stuff?”

“New name, new birthday, new history, new _everything_. It's a complete make-over,” Jensen explained and shifted uneasy in his seat. Now that he allowed his body to relax a bit the urge to sleep slammed in with the force of a thousand fists and he found himself unable to stifle a yawn.

“Sounds... exciting?” Jared mused, and then faltered. “But I've no money, Jensen.”

“I noticed.”

“But how—”

“I'll take care of it. I told you I'm gonna give you a new life, I promised you. And now let me get some sleep, will ya?”

Jared eyed him queasily, but continued to nibble on one of the double-chocolate cookies. “There's... only one bed,” he remarked and stood along with Jensen after finishing his meal.

“'M gonna take the sofa,” Jensen explained and thus the decisions were made, though there was the look of longing in Jared's eyes when he bid his host goodnight before closing the door.

Jensen exhaled slowly as he draped himself all over the too small sofa. He could still feel the kid's fingers on his shoulders and it felt like they'd marked him deeper than every single scar they'd traced, as if they'd claimed their place underneath Jensen's skin with such a matter of course and intent that it made Jensen's chest constrict. Because fuck his life, but nothing had ever felt more right than this. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, _fuck_.

 ♦ 

Jensen had half a mind to check the cabin and fix the broken lock before he'd lie himself down to catch some sleep. He'd double-checked the yard, had closed the windows and barred the front door with the kitchen table. Which definitely explained his severe reaction when he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder in the middle of the day.

“Get the fuck off me,” he roared and within seconds he was on his knees, pulling the person next to him in and wrestling it down with just one hand. It only occured to him later that there wasn't exactly strenuous opposition coming from the attacker, but he didn't think twice before pulling his hunting knife and pressing its blade violently against a soft throat. It was so easy, his body working on its own. He never missed a beat and only a small, timid voice stopped him from slicing a patch of warm skin open.

“J-Jensen—”

“What the actual fuck, Jared?” Jensen barked and with his muscles strained and his heart hammering in his chest like a war drum he couldn't quite find it in him to let go just yet.

Jared's face could only be described as panic-stricken and he swallowed hard against the razor-sharp blade, his throat working as if he was about to say something. His pupils were blown, his lashes dark smudges of coal against his skin, and only now Jensen realized their position: Jared stretched out under him, his trembling body flush against Jensen's and his lanky arms thrown above his head.

“Do you ever think twice before doing something stupid, kid?” Jensen rumbled and finally let go, slipping the blade under his pillow again, right where it belonged. He kept looming over the boy, one knee of either side of his lithe body, and let his shock and discomfort show on his face.

“I-I wanted to ask you something—I'm sorry I startled y-you.” Jared peeped and though he still looked nothing older than a seventeen year old boy, there was suddenly something else, something eager and needy lingering in his features. Jensen briefly noticed the kid's mouth and a pink tongue darting out to wet the slightly parted lips before he let go of Jared and sat back on his heels.

“You've no fucking sense of self-preservation whatsoever, do you?” he growled and took a deep inhale, his subconscious already checking their surroundings to make sure they were still safe—or at least as safe as they could be.

Jared snuffled. “I just wanted to ask a question.”

“Then go on and do it for fucks sake before I fall asleep on you.”

“What about you?”

Jensen furrowed his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What about your new identity? Do you have enough money for the both of us?” Jared asked, the look on his face open and unguarded, vulnerable even, but his voice rock-solid. He had straightened himself into an upright position and his hands rested in his lap, fingers idly playing with the hem of Jensen's hoodie.

Jensen felt his stomach drop. Fuck, he'd hoped get at least through the night without Jared becoming worried. “No,” he replied and then tried a small smile.

“But you need to be safe, Jensen. You need to... need to... we can't do that.” Jared bristled and all calmness left him. In a rush he was on his knees and pushed into Jensen's space. “I can't take your money when there's nothing left for you, I can't. I can't.”

“Calm the fuck down, kid,” was all Jensen could huff out before Jared's voice cut him off.

“I'm not gonna do this without you, okay? This... it's your money and I'm just... me. I can't do that; I can't take your money.”

“Oh yeah, you can. And you will Jared, you hear me?”

Jared's eyes went wide as he leaned even closer, sticking his face into Jensen's until their noses almost brushed. “No, I won't.”

“Yeah? Try me, kid.”

“Why do you have to be like that, Jensen? So fucking absolute.”

Jensen sighed. “Because at least one of us has to be.”

“But I-I don't wanna... go. I don't wanna have a new life like that; the price's too high,” Jared hiccupped and yeah, there were tears again. _God, no._

“I'm not gonna argue with you about this, Jared.”

“Oh really? Because I'm not gonna let g-go... I'm not... I'm not gonna let this happen and if it means I have to run away so be it.”

Judging from the surprised look on his face, Jared didn't really seem to be aware of the words that tumbled out of his pretty mouth until they hung in the cool air between them. But Jensen's overloaded mind short-circuited nevertheless and with a deep growl rumbling in his chest he caught Jared's wrists. “You're not gonna do anything like that, just so we're clear,” he barked into the boy's face, almost brutally holding him in place with an iron grip. “You're... fuck you Jared, you're not gonna run away from me! Never. I don't fucking care about your opinion on this, you hear me? I don't care what you think about this plan and I certainly don't care about your feelings. You're just a fucking kid! Running away means getting caught, do you even realize that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Jared bellowed and a wash of tears trickled down his cheeks before soaking into the smooth fabric of Jensen's sweater. “But I don't care.”

“You keep telling yourself that, boy. But when they're coming for you you'll remember my words. When they break your bones and peel your face off your skull. Are you still gonna have such a big mouth then, huh? You still gonna play the hero?”

“I don't care. They've hurt me before.”

Jensen snorted. The look on his face changed between disbelief and mockery and he flared his nostrils to drink Jared in. “You think _that_ hurt? A few smacks to the face? Someone kicking your shin and leaving a bruise? Goddamn Jared, what are you? A fucking toddler? That was just the beginning, just a tiny glimpse of what would happen if they get their filthy fingers on you again. This isn't fucking kindergarten anymore.”

“I know,” Jared sniffled and pushed Jensen away, putting as much space as possible between them on the small sofa. “I fucking know, don't you think for one second I don't fucking know cruelty. I've seen it, seen them slicing girls and boys into little pieces and piling them up like they're nothing but dead m-meat. I know what they're capable of... what _you're_ capable of. But still I don't fucking care. You may be right, because for some stupid reason I did get away with just a few concussions and bruises and broken bones until now, but I'm not... I'm not fucking afraid of pain.”

Jensen couldn't help but roar out a laugh, thick with mockery. “Who are you trying to fool, Jared? Who are you trying to make believe that shit? There's a fucking difference between being tortured for hours and having your pretty face ruined by some hillbilly who has no clue about real pain whatsoever.”

“I know-”

“No, you don't fucking know. In fact you know nothing about _anything_ , because you're just a stupid kid, and when they gonna shove a blistering blade up your virgin-ass you're gonna plead for 'em to kill ya.”

Jared winced at the words, but the look on his face was grim when he curled his fingers around the hem of Jensen's hoodie he was wearing. “Speaking of burning,” he mumbled and lifted the worn fabric over his waist, revealing a screaming red scar right above his right hipbone. It was DeWitt's brand and the searing iron had left a deep groove in the boy's flesh, eating away skin and muscle and leaving an ugly reminder of whom he belonged to.

Jensen froze. “When did you get that?”

“Couple of weeks ago.”

The white hot fury that soared inside Jensen's chest was all-consuming and for a moment he was afraid he might lose himself in the fierceness of his fury. But the look on Jared's face, open and vulnerable and so goddamn young, made Jensen swallow the bile that threatened to rise in his throat and with a growl he surged forward.

“Jared,” he rasped. His mind was blank and his hands almost shaking as he gripped the boy's hips to steady himself around the slim waist. His eyes were still drawn to the burn-mark right there, beneath his rough fingertips. It looked all kinds of twisted and wrong with the stark contrast to Jared's sweet, sun-kissed skin. Branded like that, Jared was just as ruined as Jensen. There were both tainted. Flagged as someone who didn't belong to himself anymore and Jensen thought he might be sick on the carpet.

He growled again and finally surrendered to the urge to sweep the brand away with his lips. With a low moan stuck in his throat, Jensen bent down to press his mouth against the boy's sweet, sweet skin.

And Jared responded in kind. Whimpering, he bucked into the touch instead of shying away like he should have, and the muscles of his flat stomach bunched under Jensen's touch. His head fell back against the pillow and a wrecked moan fell from his lips the second Jensen lashed his tongue against the still itching mark.

“Shit, Jared,” Jensen mumbled and licked a hot swipe across the marred skin, smearing it with spit, before closing his mouth around the cut of the boy's hip. Soft flesh in his mouth, tongue laving at the abused skin and nose buried in Jared's heady scent, Jensen thought about heaven and his first love and for a split second he wondered if he could take the boy's innocence right here, right now.

_Probably._

Jared moaned again.

 _Most definitely._ But the hot, hard length between Jared's creamy thighs reminded Jensen that he shouldn't—never should have dared a move in the first place—and with a last, wet kiss against the burning red scar he straightened up again.

Jared's eyes popped open seconds later and with confusion written all over his face he cocked his head. “J-Jensen?”

“You should go back to sleep, Jay,” Jensen mumbled and brushed is hand across his mouth to remove the last traces of the boy's intoxicating taste from his lips.

“I... what the hell was that?”

Jensen shrugged. “Just... go and get some sleep, will ya? We're leaving at dawn.”

Jared's whole body shook under the force of his emotions as he got up, pupils still blown and hands curled into the too long sleeves. “I'm not gonna let this happen, Jensen. I'm not gonna trade your... safety for mine. Watch me. This isn't over.” And with that he vanished into the bedroom.

“You bet it's over,” Jensen hissed against the closed door and for the second time on this fateful day spread out on the sofa—but this time sleep didn't come easily.

 ♦ 

According to plan they left the little cabin at dawn. The sky bloomed in orange and gold and if there was a little pang in Jensen's chest as he slammed the front door shut he didn't give much thought to it.

“Where are we gonna head next?” Jared asked as they were seated in the car again, Jensen behind the steering wheel, Jared curled into himself.

“North-west. Montana.”

“Is that where we're gonna meet your friend?”

Jensen sighed. “Yes. And if you plan on starting this stupid discussion again, just don't. I'm fucking exhausted as shit and I've no problem taping your pretty mouth shut. So drop it, Jay, or I swear to god you'll regret it.”

“'M not afraid of you,” was Jared's only reply and with a scowl he got comfortable in the seat, eyes on the road and face pressed into the collar of Jensen's sweater.

 ♦ 

They got into trouble again the next morning when they stopped at a small diner in Missoula, Montana. Jared had just finished his pancakes when he felt Jensen's fingers dig into his shoulder, pulling him away from the sticky counter.

“Whoa, what's going on?” he choked out as he was dragged along with Jensen, the man's body tense and his other hand securely wrapped around the silver Colt.

“We have visitors,” Jensen snarled and stirred the boy towards the back door, right through a kitchen full of protesting and angrily yelling workers. “Stay close, make no sound. And don't. Do. Anything. Stupid.”

Jared nodded and did as he was told, for which Jensen was more than grateful as he slit the first attacker's throat with his knife. The second one, a huge, bulky guy, landed a blow on Jensen's already hurt shoulder before he went down under the fury of Jensen's fists and the bullet that stuck inside his temple. The third and last attacker wasn't as much of an amateur as all the others before him had been, and while Jensen was busy finishing the second dude off, he managed to grab Jared's hair and drag him along.

“Jensen!” Jared screamed, his voice pure terror and his hands flying up to tear at the attackers iron grip. “Jensen, uhnngh, Jen—help!”

“Let him go,” Jensen roared, all intention to keep quiet forgotten, and furiously launched himself forward and into the guy's flank. The attacker, a scrawny, blond guy, went down under the impact and Jensen watched with eyes wide in surprise as Jared snaked out of Blondie's grip and, instead of rolling away, slammed his fists into his fugly face.

“Jared, don't—” Jensen warned and scrambled to his feet, but the boy didn't seem to listen and crushed his knuckles ferociously against the attacker's jawline.

“Fucking asshole, leave”— _punch_ —“us” _—punch—_ “alone!” Another blow and Blondie moaned under the pain exploding in his bloodied face. The attacker didn't protest when Jensen pulled Jared away and didn't so much as blink as the bullet pierced his membranes, ending his life way too quickly.

“What do you think you're doing?” Jensen screamed, bristling with anger, as soon as the guy had rattled out his last breath.

“I-I don't even know... everything... I don't know, Jensen. Everything happened so fast and I was so angry—” Jared's voice wavered.

“Goddamn, Jay,” Jensen snorted and secured his Colt before cramming it back into its holster. He grabbed the kid's fists and shook his head at the sight of the bloodied knuckles, the flesh raw and bruised and _fuck_ , that must hurt.

“I'm sorry,” Jared breathed.

“'S okay, just... let's go. We need to get outta here.”

Together they crossed the backyard towards their car, slipped in and left stupid fucking Missoula with screeching tires and three times over the speed limit.

 ♦ 

It was early afternoon when they crossed the town limits of Leavenworth, Washington and the sun hid her golden face behind a wall of thick, gray clouds. Jared's hands, now tentatively bandaged, trembled in his lap and his eyes were glued to Jensen's face, boring holes into his skull.

“We... haven't talked about it yet,” Jared mumbled as Jensen slowed the car down and his voice made clear, what _it_ had to mean.

“Jared, no. Not now, not—”

“Don't shut me out, Jensen. I told you I'm not gonna let this go.”

“And I told you this whole thing isn't up for any kind of discussion, kid,” Jensen bristled and pulled into the parking lot of a seemingly abandoned factory.

“But I don't want that, okay. It's my fucking life and I want to decide—”

“Wrong,” Jensen cut in. “You owe your little life to me, Jay. And if I decide to throw it away and give you a new one you shut the fuck up and suck it up, okay? Because that's how this whole thing works.”

“But I can't—”

Jensen cut the kid off with not so much words, but his body that suddenly crowded into Jared's space and forced him against the closed passenger door. “Oh yes you can,” Jensen drawled and allowed himself a moment to drink it all in: Jared's astonishing eyes, the blurry mix of green and blue and brown—the only waters that could quell the fire raging inside his soul. His long lashes, the bruised bridge of his nose and the stupid little moles peppered all across his high-boned cheeks. His shaggy bangs and the chestnut hair curling behind his ears, the flush that spread across his neck and his parted lips, pink and plush and every inch a sinful invitation.

“You can and you _will_ do it, you hear me?”

Jared nodded, mesmerized, eyes wide and hands coming up to tentatively splay on Jensen's chest.

“Say it. Say you'll do it.”

“I'm gonna... I-I'm gonna do it.”

Jensen quirked an eyebrow, his skin aflame beneath his shirt where Jared dared to touch him. “Say you're gonna take what Jeffrey offers you. Say that you're gonna follow my orders.”

“Will do.” Jared's voice was barely more than a whisper now, his throat working and his body yielding against Jensen.

“Good,” Jensen growled and ground his teeth before he retreated, kicking the door open. “And now come, we've got a lot of work to do.”

 ♦ 

Jeffrey looked exactly like the last time Jensen had required his services: tall, dark and handsome. Only his beard seemed be a little less thick, the streaks of silver in the black mass of curls a little wider.

“Ackles,” he greeted from where he was seated behind a large desk, his eyes quickly darting between his two customers. “Long time no see.”

Jensen nodded. “That's not a bad thing, huh?” he replied and felt his nerves flutter at the sight of his weapons neatly laid out on a table to Jeffrey's right. He had to deliver them all before entering the office, even his brass knuckles, and it made him feel naked. Naked and weak.

“Agreed,” Jeffrey nodded and smoothed his hands down his shirt before he offered his guests a seat. “And who's your cute little friend? Did you get yourself a partner after all?”

“He's not in our business.”

Jeffrey's face lit up. “Oh, he's a token then?”

“Kind of-”

“So you _did_ fall in love eventually, Ackles? Wow, that's something I never expected, I must say. And he's so easy on my old eyes—”

“He's not... we're not... I'm not in love,” Jensen protested and even in his own ears he sounded pathetic and like a stuttering child.

“Do you share then?” Jeffrey replied and licked his lips, his hands twitching on the armrest of his comfortable stool.

“No. _Fuck no,_ ” Jensen blurted out and squeezed his eyes shut only a second later. Fuck, this wasn't good. _Fuck._ Jeff wasn't one of the bad guys, but he wasn't a saint either and the only thing that counted in his eyes was the money you could offer—and Jensen's voice gave away too much. “He's a... friend. And he needs a new identity. The full program: name, history, place to live.”

Jeffrey nodded, every trace of playfulness gone from his features and his voice was all business-like when he answered. “Is he in trouble?”

“Former DeWitt-plaything.”

Jeffrey whistled. “Whoa, Ackles. You don't need my services half as often as the other cleaners, but if you need them, you need them _bad_ , huh?”

Jensen only nodded and a short glance towards Jared showed him everything he needed to know about the boy's state of mind: eyes wide, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of the sweater Jensen had lent him, sweat trickling out of his hairline and his eyes glossy and red-rimmed. Shit, shit, _shit_.

“Okay boy, what's your name?” Jeffrey asked after a few beats of silence and shifted his focus to the trembling kid.

“J-Jared. Jared Padalecki.”

“Well, that's an extraordinary name if I ever heard one. Birthday? Place of birth? Parents?”

Jared hesitated.

“C'mon boy, you gotta give me something, otherwise I can’t be of any help.”

Jensen sighed. “It's okay, Jay. You can trust him, he's gonna make it okay. Just spill.” And with a quick smile he hoped to reassure the kid enough to fucking start talking—Jeff wasn't necessarily known for his patience.

“I'm... My name is Jared Padalecki, I'm seventeen years old and I was born in San Antonio, Texas,” Jared stammered after another ten to fifteen seconds of silence and Jensen finally allowed himself to slightly relax as he slumped deeper into the cushions of his chair.

It took Jared and Jeffrey about ten minutes to gather all the important information—and wasn't that a blatant shame, considering the boy was already seventeen?—and in the end Jared's voice sounded hollow and weary.

“Okay, got it,” Jeffrey mumbled as he finished the notes he'd scribbled down into a file before discarding the pen. “So, what do you think, Ackles? Alaska? Canada?”

“What about Europe?”

Jared looked up sharply, startled.

“Mhhh, Europe, sure. But that'll cost you a bit,” Jeffrey replied smoothly and flipped through another bunch of files, thumbing the worn sheets and humming along with a melody only he could hear.

“I don't care, Morgan,” Jensen replied as he fished a heavy bundle of hundred dollar bills out of his jacket, slamming it onto the desk.

“Nice,” Jeffrey smiled and then he was all business again as he skimmed through his papers.

“I... I don't wanna live in Europe,” Jared peeped up from where he sat and winced as all eyes flickered towards him.

“My bad, boy. You want me to look up a cozy little apartment on, let's say, the moon?” Jeffrey snapped with his lips curled into a sneer.

“It's okay, Jared,” Jensen whispered and snaked his hand under the table to pat the kid's knee. “You're gonna be okay there. Europe is great.”

“But—”

“Ackles, would you please make him shut up? I need a little bit of silence to get shit done and I've absolutely no problem kicking him out right the fuck now,” Jeffrey cut in and his voice sounded annoyed.

Jared managed to hold back the whimper that formed in the back of his throat, just squeezed his eyes shut instead and dabbed the ever-running tears from his cheeks with the sweater's sleeves. Jensen wanted to say something, something to ground Jared and reassure him of his safety, but the words stuck in his throat and so he remained silent, too.

At the end of the hour Jeffrey was done with his paperwork and with a pleased smile he handed Jensen a neatly folded sheet.

“That's yours. Your acknowledgment, if you want to see it like that. You better keep it safe if you wanna see your sweetheart again.”

Jensen nodded. “So is it done yet?”

“His flight leaves tomorrow, straight from Seattle to Italy. 8 am. Terminal C, gate seven. Don't be late.”

Jensen swallowed thickly. “What about his new passport?”

“Easy, tiger,” Jeffrey replied and held his hands up in defense. “You have to at least gimme some time to work things out. I'm gonna send a courier in the morning.”

There was a beat of silence and Jensen felt his determination waver as he laid eyes on Jared, the boy a quivering bundle next to him with eyes as wide as the ocean and just as troubled. How was this kid supposed to make it all on his own? And in a land so far away on top, where all sorts of catastrophes were waiting to happen? But then Jensen reminded himself that he'd already traded, the money safe in Jeffrey's giant paw, and there was nothing else to do besides bid the dealer goodbye—hopefully for good.

 ♦ 

“Why did you do it?” Jared whispered as soon as they slipped into the car again.

“Do _what_?” Jensen replied incredulously, kicking the engine to life after carefully checking the rearview mirror.

“Why did you offerall of the money for _my_ identity alone? It would've been enough for the both of us if only—”

“Jared, _no_. Just shut up, okay. We're not gonna go through this again. You promised to listen to me.”

“But... I thought...” Jared's voice trailed off as he stared into the distance, eyes glassy and knees pulled up against his chest.

Jensen sighed. “Let's go and find a motel for the night, Jay. Then we'll talk.” He gave in and pulled out of the parking lot, chest tight and a dull pain hammering inside his head.

 ♦ 

It turned out to be not that hard to find a decent place to stay the night. With Jeff as an unwanted—and mostly unknown—patron of the little town the economy was booming and the motel was clean and cozy. It greeted them with soft sheets and an ample en suite bath room. The windows faced a large meadow and the scent of laundry detergent lingered in the air.

“You wanna take a shower?” Jensen asked as soon as he'd thoroughly locked the door.

Jared nodded. “Can we have something to eat, too?” he asked with a small voice and Jensen couldn't help but smile.

“'Course we can. Gonna order. Anything you want?”

Jared shrugged. “Pancakes?” he suggested and clutched his backpack to his chest the way he'd done their first night. He didn't look so different from what Jensen could see, his body still scrawny and his collarbones too prominent, almost poking out of the smooth skin. He still looked scared shitless, his hair was still too long and stupid and Jensen hated to feel his heart flutter in his chest.

“Maybe you're lucky and the kitchen will be merciful and make some pancakes just for you at—” his gaze flickered towards his watch—“7 pm. We'll see.”

Jared smiled, a sweet, honest-to-god smile and Jensen wanted nothing more than to jump him.

While the boy washed himself clean of the day's sweat and blood, Jensen spent the time calling for room service and checking his weapons and ammo again. He counted what was left of his money—only two grand—and tried to think past tomorrow. He'd take Jared to the airport, he'd watch him board the fucking plane— and then? Keep running? Maybe he could make it to British Columbia, visit his aunt and try to work as a lumberjack again? Maybe it could work? He could certainly try and... _—No._ That was just stupid. He knew it was impossible to run, had known it from the beginning of their journey and he certainly wasn't made to hide. He was made to fight and burn and that's what he was about to do.

“Your turn,” a small voice interrupted Jensen's train of thought and he winced at Jared's sudden presence next to him.

He got up. “Dinner will be here soon,” he mumbled, not entirely sure what else to say, and slipped into the bathroom with a lump forming in his throat.

The water was hot and the pressure pleasant and Jensen wanted nothing more than stay a little while longer, enjoying the warm rain on his troubled skin and wash away a little more of the filth he constantly felt on his skin. But a knock on the motel room door announced that dinner was ready and he slipped out of the cubicle and into the only pair of sweatpants he owned.

“I'll go,” he breathed as soon as he stepped into the main room and stopped Jared in his tracks. “Safer that way.”

“Okay,” Jared replied and returned to sit on the king-sized bed in the center of the room.

They chewed in companionable silence, Jared munching down his pancakes and a few sausages and Jensen mostly watching him. He had nibbled on a bit of bacon and a spoonful of scrambled eggs, but soon he felt his stomach churn unpleasantly and he narrowed his attention to Jared and the way his lips were wrapped around the fork. And his jawline. And the slender curve of his neck. And the droplets of warm water that dribbled out of his damp hair, running down his temples and vanishing into the hem of Jensen's hoodie.

“Are you done?” Jared asked after he'd finished his plate off, setting it on the bedside table.

Jensen only shot him a quizzical look before he shifted uncomfortably in the chair he'd dropped himself in, feet propped up on the mattress.

“Good,” Jared continued without so much waiting for an answer. “Because I... I want you to focus solely on me.”

' _Done.'_ Jensen thought with a bitter smile, but perked up, already guessing what was about to come next.

“You promised earlier we'd talk. So go on, talk. Tell me why you did it. Tell me why you squandered all your money to send me off to Italy instead of saving your own ass.”

Jensen groaned. “You're never gonna let this go, are you?”

Jared didn't reply, only shook his head. The look on his face changed from determined to stern, his hands balling into the pillow he rested in his lap.

“So what do you want to hear, Jared? I did it because it's the fucking DeWitts we're talking about. They're rich beyond all reasoning, filthy rich, and they know how to use their dirty money. You're never gonna be safe around here, not in Washington, not in Texas, not in stupid fucking Iowa for fuck's sake.”

“What about Canada? Alaska? Jeffrey mentioned—”

“C'mon Jared, you're not that stupid, are you? Do I really have to spell it out for you? It's the DeWitts, they have spies all over the country and they won't rest until they've found you... us.”

“But Canada isn't the US and we could've... you could've stayed with me and...” Jared's voice trailed off as he searched for something else to say.

“You don't know what you're walking about,” Jensen replied and dismissed any further words that dared to tumble out of Jared's mouth, the boy chocking on them almost violently.

“I _do_ know, Jensen,” Jared tried again, voice now high-pitched and louder and his cheeks flushing with anger. “We could've at least tried it, you stupid, stubborn asshole.”

“What makes you think I even wanted to try it in the first place?” Jensen barked and tried to soothe his fluttering nerves with a punch against the soft mattress, knuckles cracking.

Jared's composure faltered. “I knew it... I-I... I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew that you did it because of me, because you don't like me the way I like you.” There was a hitch in his voice and he crumbled some more, ducking his head like he had in their first night.

Jensen didn't know what was the last straw: Jared's words, his small voice, the tears threatening to swell out of his beautiful eyes or the submissive gesture—not that it really mattered, because his reaction was all the same.

With a furious growl boiling up his throat he got to his feet and was on the bed and right in Jared's face seconds later. His body was heavy as it pressed against the boy's and every touch felt like an electric jolt surging through Jensen's veins.

“Look at me Jared,” he barked and snatched the kid's chin between his fingers, forcing him to do as he was told. “Look at me you stupid child and tell me that it's possible to hide with a face like mine.”

Jared whined, but didn't dare to look away.

“Jen—”

“No, Jared. Look at me, look at my scars, look at all the marred and ruined skin and then tell me again about you and me living a fucking apple-pie-life in Canada.”

“Jensen, please—”

“Look at them!” Jensen bellowed again and stuck his face even closer into Jared's, lips curled into an ugly smile and nails digging into the soft flesh of Jared's dimpled cheeks.

“I am! I am looking!” Jared yelled and fuck, he now cried in earnest. “But I don't _care_ , Jensen. I don't give two shits about it, we could've _tried_ it.”

Jensen sighed and after another two or three heartbeats he let go of Jared's face, leaning back again. “No, Jared. You're lying to yourself and you know it. With a face like mine you can't hide, not with that many scars,” he mumbled, suddenly exhausted and his voice wavering as he buried his face in his hands. His stubble felt rough against his palms and for a moment he squeezed his eyes shut, desperation sweeping over him.

“Can't you see that I just don't want to leave?” Jared whispered and shuffled closer tentatively.

“You're talking out of your ass, Jay. You don't even know me.”

“Yeah, I do. I know that you're strong and brave and that you can kill a guy without batting an eye. I know that you hate junkfood and energy drinks. I know that you're a killer and I know that you think that makes me you less human. You think you're not good enough, that you're tainted.” Jared paused briefly to let his words sink in before he continued, voice incredibly soft. “I know how your lips feel against my skin, I know your mouth and the curve of your face. I know your hands when they're buried in my biceps and y-your... tongue. I know you, Jensen. I _do_.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Jensen protested in response, hands still clutching his skull as if he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold back after the tiniest glance towards Jared. “Haven't I been nothing but good to you?”

“You have,” Jared cooed and slowly but deliberately clasped his fingers around Jensen's wrists before pulling his hands away, “and I want to give you something in return, is all.”

Jensen snorted. “So that's it, huh? You feel like you owe the old, scarred man and you want to pay your debts? Newsflash kiddo, there's no need for that. I can happily live without your charity.”

Jared smiled softly as he climbed into Jensen's lap. “You know that it's not like that, Jensen,” he whispered and rested their foreheads together, eyes glassy and cheeks aflame and Jensen only grunted in reply.

They stayed like that for quite a while, Jared's arms wrapped around Jensen's neck, their faces so fucking close, their bodies yielding against each other like two pieces of the same whole.

“What am I supposed to do with you, huh?” Jensen eventually croaked and wasn't surprised at all to find his voice hoarse and thick and in his throat.

A shy smile curled Jared's lips before he whispered “You could... you could kiss me,” and then he giggled _—fucking giggled_ —nervously.

“Yeah, I could do that,” Jensen breathed and then he leaned in, eyes wide open and lips slightly parted as he slotted their mouths together. Their first kiss was soft and slow, almost chaste, and Jensen's heart skipped a beat. Jared's lips felt like silk and tasted like sweet cotton candy and maple syrup and Jensen moaned against them as he sucked them in, licking along and between the slick flesh hungrily.

“Open up,” he mumbled as they separated again, lungs aching for air. “Let me taste you.” And Jared complied with eyes fluttered shut, his hands wandering down to Jensen's chest where slender fingers spread out on his firm pecs. The inside of Jared's mouth was even sweeter and Jensen knew he wouldn't be able to stop if he tried. His cock already rock-hard beneath the threadbare fabric of his sweatpants, he moaned into the boy's mouth as he licked deep, their tongues sliding against each other at a languid pace. Their was no rush in their motions and Jensen's lips prickled as he let go of Jared for the second time.

“Jensen, please,” Jared whined and with his head tilted back he pressed impossibly closer. His cheeks were flushed, a dark shade of pink spreading down his neck and chest, and his still damp hair clung to his forehead. He smelled like soap and sticky syrup and Jensen didn't stop himself from latching his mouth onto the boy's skin right above his collarbone.

“Hnnghhh,” Jared cooed again and jerked his head back even more, surrendering the vulnerable column of his throat to Jensen's warm tongue. He was shaking again, his lithe body vibrating against Jensen's, and slowly, hesitantly, he slid his fingers up and into Jensen's short hair.

“Jared,” Jensen breathed and pressed his face into the hollow right below the kid's throat, drinking him in, “you're still a virgin. You sure you wanna... you wanna—”

“Yeah,” Jared whispered and a new wave of heat swept through him as he felt the man's rough stubble scrape his delicate skin, rubbing softly until the smooth surface felt sore and hot and so _good_. “I want... you... I want you to....”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to be my first,” the boy slurred and with another sweet little moan falling from his lips, he nodded, determined. “I want you t-to fuck me,”

Jensen chuckled. “Straight to the point, huh?”

“N-nothing _straight_ about it,” Jared corrected with a shaky voice and his fingers fisted in Jensen's hair, pulling the short strands carefully.

Jensen laughed again, this time louder, and felt something unclench in his chest at Jared's wit and the sound of his small giggling laugh so very close to the sensitive shell of his ear.

They kissed again, this time with more heat, and Jared's lips were slick with spit and swollen from the rough union when they pulled apart. He looked pretty fucking beautiful like that, hair slightly disheveled and shirt hitched up, revealing a streak of tanned skin and smooth flesh, the long expanse of his neck exposed to Jensen's greedy lips.

“Gotta tell me what you want me to do,” Jensen whispered after he'd dipped in for another taste of Jared's mouth, tongue thoroughly ravishing the silken heat. “What do you like?”

The kid shrugged. “I dunno,” he confessed and with another blush creeping up his cheeks he slowly untangled his fingers from Jensen's hair. “I wanna... wanna t-touch.”

Jensen nodded. “Go ahead then,” he mumbled and let go of the boy's hipsto pull his shirt over his head. He discarded it heedlessly on the floor, and waited.

“I... wow,” Jared gulped and for a moment he just sat there, staring, eyes fixed to the man in front of him. Jensen's chest was broad, as were his shoulders. The skin was slightly tanned and dusted with just the right amount of golden freckles, the honeyed tone a stark contrast to the pearly white scars that crisscrossed all over the warm surface.

“What now?” Jensen asked after a few seconds of silence. “You afraid of the old, scarred man after all?”

Jared didn't manage to reply, just shook his head vigorously, and with an almost hesitant gesture he spread his palms over Jensen's slowly heaving chest. He smiled as he felt the muscles ripple under his touch and with a quiet moan he started moving, his warm palms carefully tracing scars and freckles and the path of Jensen's ribs down to his flanks.

“What happened?” Jared asked breathily as his fingers trailed across a patch of sore skin, sensitive to the touch and the tissue marred with red gashes.

“I refused to kill an innocent man and almost got ganked in return,” Jensen replied with an uneasy voice and with a shudder he leaned in for a leisurely kiss that made Jared dig his fingers into the skin beneath his palms.

Jared continued to kiss and touch for a while, his nimble fingers caressing every inch of freckled skin available, the look of pure delight on his face. He was in awe of the smooth muscles, how they rippled and bunched under his touch, and the urge to taste struck him somewhere along the way. He didn't think about it twice as he leaned in, his lips tentatively ghosting over the crook of Jensen's neck before his tongue darted out.

Jensen moaned low in his throat and Jared smiled against the warm skin. “Jensen?”

“Mnnh?”

“I... I want you to look at me,” the boy whispered and let go of the man beneath him. “Please.”

Jensen couldn't stifle another groan and he had to palm his straining cock through the fabric of his sweatpants. He felt like someone had poured lava into his veins, sweet adrenaline thrumming beneath his skin and making him want to lick and bite and mark and claim and _fuck_.

“Yeah,” he rasped and slowly slid his palms around Jared's waist, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles across the boy's stomach. Jared vibrated against him with eyes closed and then his shirt was off and thrown onto the floor.

“Goddamn,” Jensen breathed as he let his eyes greedily roam over Jared's lithe form.

 _Perfect_. There was no other word fit those slim shoulders and perky, pink nipples. Every inch of smooth skin was immaculate. No scar marred the soft surface, and the low cut of his hips sent Jensen's blood boiling.

But Jared shook his head. “No,” he protested quietly. “I want you to see _all_ of me. Here.” And with a shy smile he untangled himself from Jensen's body to shimmy out of his worn-soft pants.

Jensen had thought that nothing else could be more glorious than any naked boy in his lap and a soft bed for the night. That was until he met Jared Padalecki in all his glorious nakedness, with his beautiful pink cock bobbing against his stomach and his creamy thighs waiting to be spread open.

“Fucking hell, Jay,” Jensen moaned and _goddamn_ , that boy was beautiful.

“Am I... okay?” Jared peeped up, the blush on his cheeks going impossibly deeper, and he ducked his head. His fingers were nervously curled into the covers.

Jensen almost jumped out of his skin with the urge to mount the boy, his cock screaming to fuck into that pretty ass, his fingers itching with the need to finger Jared open. But he didn't want to scare the kid so he settled on nodding ferociously.

“Yeah, Jared. More than just okay,” he replied and took another moment of worshipping the boy's body. He really wanted to count those moles.

“Really? Because I thought... because you're so ripped... and I—”

“You're fucking beautiful, Jared,” Jensen blurted out and finally allowed himself to touch the kid's thighs, pulling him into his lap again. “You're so beautiful it makes me wanna keep you forever,” he whispered against Jared's mouth and laid him out on the bed before he let his lips speak.

He started by licking deep into Jared's coral-red mouth, ravishing it until his lips felt sore and raw. He went to work mapping the stretch of Jared's throat and further down. Agonizingly slow he swept his wet tongue across every inch of smooth skin, suckling, nibbling and tasting. He sucked in those beautiful, pink nipples, made them pucker and Jared moan, licked a warm line down the boy's stomach before he dipped into his belly button. He followed the curve of his ribcage with the tip of his tongue, nuzzled the warmth of Jared's armpits and trailed a row of chaste, tickling kisses down the path of his hip. He dedicated a good amount of time just to the little grooves above Jared's hipbones before he turned his attention to the ugly, red mark below.

“You're not fucking _theirs_ ,” Jensen growled as his lips traced the outlines. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, but kept on licking and sucking at the abused skin, nostrils flared and lips relentlessly working the hot flesh over until a purple hickey bloomed.

“Better,” he murmured and then sat back on his heels to take a good, long look of the boy resting in the sheets. And goddamn, wasn't that a sight for the gods? His whole body quivering, heels dug into the mattress and back arching into Jensen's every touch, Jared looked like the epitome of the word _beautiful_.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Jensen asked after a few heartbeats of silent admiration and watched in amusement as Jared's eyes popped open in surprise.

“You w-would?”

Jensen cracked a small smile. “Yeah,” he replied and felt his mouth water at the thought of that pretty cock weighing his tongue down. “I'd really like to taste you.”

Jared nodded. “Yes, please,” he wheezed and watched his own hips buck involuntarily as scarlet blush was creeping up his cheeks. His stomach was already smeared with pre-come and the pink tip of dick glistened with it.

“Okay,” Jensen whispered.

“Okay.”

Sucking Jared off was both disturbingly satisfying and stupidly arousing. His cock was hard and heavy on Jensen's tongue, the hot skin soft like velvet and simply addictive. Jensen didn't waste much time and swallowed the whole length down immediately, making Jared's hips stutter and his mouth spilling a throaty moan into the thick air of the motel room. Pressing his tongue into the leaking slit, Jensen thoroughly tasted Jared before he licked around the tip, his tongue swirling and squirming as he kept going, swallowing again and shoving the boy's cock all the way down his tight throat.

“Jensen, Jensen, Jen—” Jared chocked out, thighs trembling and the muscles in his stomach going rigid. “Jen, fuck I'm so close, you... you gotta to stop, hnnnghh.” He was whining now and his fingers gripped the sheets tight.

But Jensen kept going relentlessly, throat working, tongue licking and suckling at the hot flesh until his nose was brushing the soft curls at the base of Jared's cock. He slipped his fingers between the boy's thighs to cup his balls and god, he just couldn't stop. Jared was absurdly responsive, his whole body quivering beneath Jensen's touch and the promise of his creamy load spurting down Jensen's throat made him almost come inside his pants, right there and then.

It seemed like Jensen wanted to memorize every inch of the slick length inside his mouth and after a few more shallow thrusts Jared came with a cry, his body surrendering to the peak of pleasure and his limbs going lax against the mattress.

“I... I-I'm so sorry,” he breathed between soft little moans and avoided Jensen's gaze as the man kissed his way up again until they lay shoulder to shoulder.

“'S nothing to apologize for,” Jensen replied. His voice was hoarse as he dipped in for a slow kiss. He let Jared taste himself, the bitter-sweet flavor of come still lingering on Jensen's tongue, and the boy moaned hungrily into his mouth.

“But I wanted us to come together,” he mumbled as soon as Jensen released his lips again. “I want you to... ya know... like it, too.”

Jensen couldn't help but laugh. “Don't you worry about me, I had plenty of fun down there.” He tangled his hands in Jared's chestnut hair and shuffled even closer to the lithe body, pressing them both into the mattress. “Besides who said we're already done, huh?”

“Yeah? B-because there's another thing I want you to do,”

Jensen quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want you to... I want you to do what _you_ like best. Do something that feels good for you, too.”

Jensen shook his head. “That's not how we play this game, baby,”

“Please?”

Jared's eyes were wide and pleading, pupils blown from the orgasm that still rippled through his body and Jensen realized that he'd never stood a chance. He was so doomed.

“Hnnhh okay, let's see,” he drawled and his hands started to wander again. “I like kissing you,” he whispered and leaned in for a possessive kiss, a lazy roll of tongue against tongue until their hearts dared to burst out of their chests.

“I like that, too,” Jared breathed as Jensen made his way down again, kissing along the boy's jawline and down to the hollow of his throat.

“I like the way your skin turns red when I do this,” Jensen mumbled and rubbed his rough stubble over Jared's chest, burning the delicate skin and leaving it sore and hypersensitive to the touch.

Jared whined and his cock started to harden again against his stomach.

“And I like doing this.” A scratch of blunt nails across dusty pink nipples. “And this.” A slow roll of the rosy buds between rough fingers.

“I like sucking you dry, Jay,” Jensen continued and dropped a couple of wet, open-mouthed kisses on the boy's half-hard cock before sliding even further down, nuzzling the insides of his thighs.

“Jensen, please,” Jared whimpered and arched off the mattress. His eyes were fixed on the gorgeous man between his spread legs and the wet tongue pressing against his warm skin. “Please, I want you t-to come, too.”

“Shhh, it's alright, baby,” Jensen replied. “We're getting there.” And he continued showering the boy's thighs and legs with sloppy kisses, worshipping every inch of creamy skin and memorizing every sweet little mole, every pretty moan that fell from Jared's parted lips.

“Wanna know what I want, Jared? What I really, really want to do?” Jensen asked eventually, now looming over Jared again and basking in the boy's utter beauty.

“Hmmm?”

“I want to eat you out. I wanna lick you open and fuck my tongue into you.”

Jared almost fainted at the sound of Jensen's low voice whispering such filth against the shell of his ear and he shivered violently.

“Yeah,” he breathed and spread his legs further to make room for the bulk of Jensen's huge body. “Please... I need it.”

“Good,” Jensen replied and closed his fingers around the boy's thighs, lifting them up with next to no effort. “I wanna make it good for you, just tell me what you like.”

“Okay.”

And just like that Jensen pressed his face against the boy's crotch, inhaling, exhaling, before he trailed his lips down across his balls and even lower.

Jared's ass was simply _perfect_. The cheeks soft and sensitive, the swell just enough to fit into Jensen's calloused palms. It seemed to be entirely made for Jensen to nuzzle at the warm skin before his hands pulled slightly just to reveal the tight, puckered hole. Nosing along the crack, Jensen made a few tentative licks across the pink rim, his eyes carefully watching the expressions flickering through Jared's eyes.

“Is this okay?” he asked after he'd searched the boy's face for any sign of discomfort. “Do you like it?”

“God yeah,” Jared nodded and the next time he felt Jensen's rough tongue swirling around his hole, he pressed back into the strange, new touch.

It was ridiculous, but even down there Jared tasted somewhat sweet, his heady scent filling Jensen's nostrils and sending his thoughts reeling. The feeling of his tongue pressing against the tight pucker and his mouth closing around the slick rim made his cock jump and another wash of pre-come soaked his sweatpants. God, this kid was a fucking menace, beautiful, innocent and so fucking sweet it made Jensen's skin crawl. He moaned around his tongue as he pushed in for the first time.

“Jen—” Jared breathed out, an almost panicked sound climbing out of his chest. “D-don't stop, Jen!”

And who was Jensen to disobey? His tongue buried in Jared's asshole, rough fingers kneading the kid's soft cheeks, Jensen continued to taste and lick and pound into the slick heat until he felt light-headed and his cock about to explode.

Jared had grown rock-hard again long ago and his cock bobbed against his stomach with every hard thrust of Jensen's tongue, a warm string of pre-come leaking from the tip.

“Jen please,” he kept on whining, hands buried in the sheets and body jerking into Jensen's touch, his head cast back and sweat pearling down his flanks. He was almost bent in half now, Jensen fucking his tongue in and out of his plush hole and his wet lips brushing the rim relentlessly.

“Yeah, Jay. Me, too,” Jensen drawled as he felt his own body going rigid. Almost there. _Almost_. “Let me....” He let go of Jared's ass and laid him down gently before pulling his own sweats down in a swift motion.

Jared whined at the loss of tongue inside his ass, but hungrily reciprocated the kiss as he felt Jensen's lips against his.

“Gonna fuck your thighs, baby, okay?” Jensen mumbled into the kid's mouth and dipped his tongue in for another taste, licking deep and swallowing every sweet moan that spilled past Jared's lips.

“ _Anything_ , Jen,” the boy keened and opened up almost automatically, his legs parting just for Jensen and every fiber in Jensen's body sung with the sight.

“That's right, Jay. C'mere,” he rasped and pulled Jared's lithe body into his lap, the tip of his own cock pressing against Jared's balls and the base of his cock and fuck the friction was unbearable, the feeling unbelievable as he rocked into the boy for the first time.

Their tongues clasped together in a messy kiss and Jensen's hand found its way to Jared's cock, strong fingers gripping it tight and pumping in sync with every desperate roll of Jensen's hips. And then everything was instinct and unspoken yearning, bodies colliding and surrendering to all-consuming need.

They didn't last long. Starved of touch for so many years, their bodies moved on their own. Skin slick and mouths slotted together in a myriad of impossible and perfect ways, it felt like the perfect overload of all senses and with a scream Jared came for the second time that night.

“Jen,” he breathed and shuddering, he slumped into the man's arms, face buried in the crook of Jensen's neck and fingers tangled in his short hair after waves of bliss washed over him.

Jensen followed shortly. Not quite as noisy but with the same desperation, he stumbled over the edge and came all over the boy's thighs, painting them white and tainting their unmarred innocence. Softly, Jensen moaned Jared's name as he peaked and pulled him even closer to his chest, cradling his beautiful body and holding it through the minutes of silence that followed.

“Are you okay, baby?” Jensen was first to regain his ability to speak. His mind was still clouded and his fingers seemed to work on their own as they kept on drawing soft patterns across the boy's back, but at least his racing heart seemed to slowly calm down.

“Mnnnh,” Jared mumbled sleepily as he clung to Jensen unabashedly.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“Okay,” Jensen breathed and brushed his fingers through Jared's damp hair. “Let's try and get some sleep.”

“Okay.” And without much ceremony they crashed into the sheets, neither of them minding the sticky mess between their tangled bodies and Jared had never known the meaning of the word 'safe' until he fell asleep buried in Jensen's arms.

 ♦ 

Morning came too quick and too bright and Jensen felt the irony searing deep inside his bones. His head felt heavy and filled with cotton wool when the courier knocked to deliver the passport, his stupid face reminding everyone of what lay ahead.

“I don't wanna go,” Jared whispered as Jensen slammed the door shut and _fuck_ , Jensen didn't want him to go either.

“I know,” he rasped and then they had to hurry. There was a new SUV waiting for them in the car park, but Jensen paid it no heed. He dropped his duffel bag full of weapons in the trunk and only minutes later they sped down the highway.

 ♦ 

Two hours, fifteen minutes to Seattle. Jensen only needed one hour, fifty-eight minutes.

And then there was Terminal C, gate seven and Jared's eyes were puffy from crying in the car and he shook against Jensen as he gathered Jared into his arms.

“I can't do it,” he whimpered and pushed his face into the hem of Jensen's jacket.

“Yeah, you can.”

“F-fine, but I don't want t-to.”

“But you have to.” Jensen whispered and pulled the weeping boy from his chest, gripping his chin and forcing him to look into his face. “You have to listen to me, baby, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You have to go board that plane and leave. There's nothing waiting for you here but death. They won't rest, you hear me? They won't stop until they have your head on a silver platter.”

“I don't c-care.”

“I know, you stupid child,” Jensen scolded fondly. “But _I_ do. Goddamn Jared, I care a fucking lot and I want your pretty head where it belongs, okay?”

Jared nodded, but a new wash of tears flooded down his cheeks. “Please don't make me g-go, Jen,” he pleaded and his fingers clenched in the rough fabric of Jensen's jacket.

“Shhh, it's okay. You'll be just fine.”

“No, n-no I won't. Stop lying to me. I'm never gonna see you again.” Jared crashed into Jensen again, his body shaking under the force of his tears and the grief that coiled inside his chest. “They're gonna kill you because of m-me, Jensen, I know it.”

“C'mon Jay, stop doing this to yourself—”

“Noooo, I know I-I'm right. They k-kill you and do all those horrible things and please, come with me. Come with me, just do i-it. We can make it... to-together.”

A bored voice called Jared's flight via a crackling speaker and Jensen felt his heart skip not one, but four or five beats. “I can't do that, baby, and you know it. I'm their priority target; they'll follow my tracks until the end of days—”

“Exactly,” Jared snuffled and pressed his hot, wet face against Jensen's neck.

“And that's your only chance, Jared. You'll have a new life, a better one, huh. C'mon stop crying.”

“I c-can't, Jensen. I can't go and live without you... I ca-can't...”

There was a beat of silence and Jensen tightened his grip around the quivering mess in his arms, brushing his lips against the boy's temple before he whispered “Don't you worry, baby. I'm gonna kill them all. I'm gonna kill them all and then I'll find you, okay?”

Jared hiccuped. “You're only saying that because you wanna get rid of me!” he exclaimed and shuddered violently.

“Look at me, Jared,” Jensen ordered and waited until Jared had gathered the strength to pull away from Jensen a few inches. “I'm gonna kill them all for you: DeWitt, his puppets, _everyone_. I'm gonna make them pay for every bruise—” Jensen paused to cup the boy's face and trace a thumb over the purple bridge of his nose—“for every time they wronged you, okay? I'm gonna kill 'em and spit on their wretched bodies and then I'll come for you.”

“You serious?” Jared whimpered and leaned into Jensen's rough palms, rubbing his lips against them.

“Do I look like I'm joking, kid?”

“No,” Jared wheezed and let himself be pulled in for a hard, desperate kiss, lips slamming together and tongues entangling longingly.

“Good. Now go, you're late already,” Jensen whispered as soon as he managed to bring some distance between their bruised lips again.

“But—”

“No, Jared. No time to protest anymore, you're gonna get that plane!”

“Jensen, please—” Jared pleaded, his voice thick with sorrow and despair and it made Jensen's chest constrict with unknown, unacknowledged pain.

“Go, baby. Leave now. I'm gonna find you, okay?” he mumbled and pushed the boy from his chest, stepping back to stretch the distance.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

And then Jared got sucked into the crowd of happily chatting people, his beautiful face dwindling away from Jensen's sight and Jensen felt his knees buckle. Bile rose in his throat and there was a real possibility that he might be sick on the airport floor.

He was about to leave the security zone, when he heard a voice over the white noise. Loud and clear it screamed his name and when he looked up he saw Jared at the gateway, waving his arms.

“Scarred, old man,” he screamed at the top of his lungs and the smile on his face was beautiful, overwhelming, knee-weakening, all dimples and glassy eyes.

“I love you.”

And then he vanished behind the terminal doors and Jensen knew that he'd never see that boy again.

It had been a lie. There was no way he could win against the DeWitts, he'd never stood a chance. But at least he'd die for the right cause—and for someone who was worth dying a million agonizing deaths.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a alcohol-fueled night on the phone with my best friend on the other end of the line and a lot of heartache that ensued. Written for my beautiful, beautiful [Rinny](http://brotherlykisses.tumblr.com/) for her 20th birthday. Happy birthday my sunshine on a rainy day, I love you so incredibly much. ////kisses your face///////
> 
> [Stop by to say 'hello' if you feel like it](http://sunflowerbrother.tumblr.com/).


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